


King of the Clouds

by amargeet



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, I'm just so hyped for King of the Clouds since we heard a bit of it, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-04-25 06:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14372724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amargeet/pseuds/amargeet
Summary: Brendon had always been told that he would be their saviour, that he would be the one to bring them back into the spotlight.He didn't want that.So, he ran. But he was the future King of the Clouds, and they weren't going to let him run off that easily.





	1. lost and found

Brendon Urie had been born into this. Ever since he was young he had constantly been told about how he would be their saviour, about how he would be the one to bring their kingdom back into the spotlight for the first time in millennia. That it was his duty to be the best king they had ever seen.

But Brendon… he had never asked for this. He had never asked for the weight of an entire civilisation on his back but that’s what he got.

He couldn’t do it, no, he  _ wouldn’t  _ do it. He wouldn’t be the malevolent, unstoppable force they wanted him to be. The force they had been teaching him to be since birth.

So he didn’t.

The moment he was old enough to be left unsupervised, the moment he was able to travel around without help, he ran. He ran from any and all responsibilities he had been assigned to and didn’t look back.

He ended up in LA. It was the most crowded place Brendon had ever been to and he had lived in the midst of a kingdom his entire life. In LA he found two adults that had been trying for kids for years but hadn’t succeeded. He was thirteen and knew it would be suspicious to the people of the city if he was just wandering around on his own, so he carefully wove himself into their memories and into their lives. He knew it was wrong but it worked out well— at least for him. 

For the next three years there was no sign of his original family.

He reached the age of 16 without any disturbances. At 16 he joined a small band in LA that he eventually began to call his new family.

His effect on his ‘parents’ was beginning to fade after those three years, and soon after he had first joined this band – Panic! At The Disco, they were called – his parents threw him out in terror. It hurt more than he cared to admit but he didn’t say a word about it. It was only a matter of time until his real family found him.

Just as he didn’t say a word about his makeshift parents throwing him out, he didn’t say a word of his past life to his bandmates. The only thing they knew of his past was that of his life after he had left the kingdom. In fact, the only thing they properly knew of him was that he was strangely good at learning and mastering instruments, he was extremely eccentric, and that he didn’t understand the most simple human notions at times. That didn’t stop them from calling him their friend.

The moment he met Pete, Brendon knew he would be found soon.

Pete didn’t recognise him, but Brendon had immediately  _ felt _ the familiarity that came with a person from the Kingdom in the Clouds. The bassist practically  _ radiated  _ the feeling. But Pete didn’t seem to feel it on him, which meant that Pete had more than likely been on Earth for a long,  _ long  _ time. Brendon was grateful for that.

Brendon said nothing about knowing where Pete was truly from as they got to know each other. He didn’t say a word about how he knew the reason why Pete always looked to the sky with such longing.

He said nothing because he knew if he did Pete would more than likely return him to his original home. He said nothing because he knew if he did, Pete would stop treating him as his friend– and sometimes, a lot of the time actually, as his son. He didn’t want that. He just wanted a little more time in this life he had made for himself, in this home that LA had become. Just a little more time.

So he didn’t say a word. He instead became friends with the man, as Brendon, not as someone from the kingdom in the clouds.

Pete helped with boosting Panic! At The Disco to fame. Brendon didn’t know why he let it happen, it only made it easier to find him after all, but being famous for something other than being future King of the Clouds made Brendon uncontrollably happy.

It was the year 2009 when they finally found him. He had stopped hiding his presence from them, but it hadn’t been done consciously. He had been too stuck in his own thoughts to realise. It had only been a week since Ryan and Jon had left the band officially, leaving Brendon and Spencer as the only remaining members. Brendon hadn’t exactly been in his right mind.

They came to him in the middle of the day when the sun was shining brightly overhead. He was finally getting up after lying in bed for the past day and a half. His stomach had woke him up growling, shouting at him because he had forgotten one of the most basic necessities of life. He didn’t particularly care.

After he finished getting something to eat – a bowl of cereal without any milk – he went to sit down on one of the chairs at the dining room table. The moment he did that, however, he shot straight back out of it. On the other side of the tables, sitting and staring at him, was a person he had forced himself to forget about in the past years.

The man wore a crown on head that honestly could have blinded someone with how much it shone. His hair underneath the crown wasn’t much, but he could see the black tresses that had been combed back. His beard was thick, extremely bushy and nearly making any sight of his lips disappear completely.

His eyes were as they always had been. Old, grey, and disappointed.

Brendon’s heart pounded heavily in his chest. He could hear his own breathing.

“Father.” He whisper in greeting, and he lowered his head. Twenty two years old and he still submitted to his father. He would be embarrassed of himself if he wasn’t so terrified.

“Hello, son.”


	2. ready to go (get me out of my mind)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long awaited meeting between father and son.

Out of everything he could of said upon seeing Brendon, greeting him and still acknowledging him as his son was shocking. In all honesty Brendon had been expecting yelling. He had been expecting the harshness that his father had shown him since the day he was born. He had almost been expecting disownment, however irrational that was considering he was the only son of the royals.

He had not been expecting the smile that was on his father’s face, contrasting harshly with the coldness Brendon was quickly noticing in his eyes.

There was a best of silence and the man became who had been waiting for. Of course the happiness was a lie.

Brendon watched as father’s – no, his  _ kings  _ face became its usual blank expression.

“Hello, my successor.” The King corrected himself. The words made much more sense than him happily calling Brendon his son.

“This is where you have been hiding?” The man asked, looking around Brendon and at his apartment. His nose was scrunched up in disgust and sustain. Brendon knew the reaction wasn’t just at the apartment. He clenched his fists against his side but didn’t say a word.

“Well, answer me!” The King demanded when he didn’t get a response.

Brendon couldn’t contain his ingrained reaction to his father’s yelling – he flinched. His head lowered even more than it already was.

“Yes, Father. This is where I’ve been.” He said. It was the truth, in some aspects, but he wasn’t going to get his self-adopted parents involved in his mess of a life. He said nothing about living anywhere else. Lucky for him, his father thought that Brendon had no reason to lie to him and as such just accepted Brendon’s agreement as truth.

“I don’t like it.” His father said blandly and Brendon had to hold back his automatic retort of “I realise that”.

Instead he replied with, “I’m sorry.”

His father was no impressed. Not at all.

“You will return with me.” Brendon was told. It was not a question. The certainty of the King’s voice made that obvious. Brendon would have known it was a demand even if he didn’t hear it in his voice, though. He had quickly learnt when something was being demanded of him when he was young.

Brendon wanted to say no. He wanted to run off once more and never see his family or the kingdom again. He wanted to escape his responsibilities as he had always done and continue to make music — but he knew he couldn’t. He was tired. So, so tired.

“Yes, father.”

His father looked surprised that Brendon had agreed so quickly. He seemed to have thought that he was going to have to fight with his son on this. But obviously that wasn’t the case and a pleased smile fell upon his face.

“I am glad that you have finally come to respect your betters.” The King said. His face took on a conflicted expression as he thought of something. “Maybe being on Earth for all these years actually  _ helped  _ you.”

He scowled at his own words. Then he stood up from the chair he had seated himself on.

“We will go now.” He stated. He looked impatient as he waited for Brendon to follow suit and stand up.

Cautiously Brendon pulled himself out of his own seat. He had agreed to leave moments before, he knew what that agreement meant to his people, but his heart hurt.

This would mean leaving everyone behind, all of his friends who would wonder where he had gone. But…

Hadn’t they done the same to him barely a week before?

Brendon shook his head. There was no point in thinking about it.

He took a quick at his father and, seeing the irritation covering his entire self, steeped around the table and towards the king. It wasn’t until he reached the man that he realised he was holding his breath.

Brendon’s father barely at him before placing his hand on his son’s shoulder.

He choked on his held breath as his surroundings disappeared and he was moved from one location to another in the blink of an eye.

Almost exactly after they had both disappeared from the apartment there was a knock on the door.

Spencer Smith stood on the other side of the door, waiting for his friend to open it for him.

He would not receive an answer.


	3. one and lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the place where it all began.

It had been far too long since Brendon had last been moved like that. During his time on Earth he had made sure never to use his abilities as haphazardly as that. It had also been far too long since Brendon had been here, where they had ended up, the Kingdom of the Clouds.

Standing outside of the castle that overlooked the entire kingdom felt wrong. He had been gone for so long that it no longer felt like home – but then again, it never really had.

The kings hand was still on his shoulder. It wasn’t taken off until he had been lead inside the doors.

The sight of the throne room would have made all of the air rush out of him if he had been breathing it in. Up there, though, there was no need to do such a useless,  _ human  _ thing, as his father would say.

The room looked nothing like it had back when he was younger. All the things he would have considered common, things he would have considered  _ his _ , were gone. Instead throne room was filled with nothing but the throne and the barely essentials a room such as this needed. It felt so… desolate. Unused.

Brendon hated it instantly yet he didn’t say a word about it.

As the weight of the kings hand left his shoulder Brendon made sure to his his head down as he followed behind the man.

The sound of a shocked voice echoed through the throne room when he was about halfway across.

“My son?” The question was asked, “is that you?”

Instantly every muscle in his body seized up and he stopped walked. The terror that filled him was unimaginable. Ever so slowly Brendon looked up to the source of the voice.

His mother, no, never his mother, _ the woman _ that stood in front of him was the one person he had shoved  _ so far  _ back into his mind that he had forgotten she existed until now. He hadn’t even completely forgotten about his father.

She stared down at him from her place on her throne. The mad glint in her eyes was easily seen, despite the length of distance between her and Brendon.

A harsh shudder ran through him. He couldn’t stop staring.

There was a slight tap against his arm and, luckily, that was all it took to break him out of his trance. Without hesitation Brendon hastily looked away. A dark giggle was the only response he received.

He remained still for only a few more moments but that was all it took to make his father take hold of his forearm and grip it tightly. The grip was only released when he began to move forwards again.

“Yes, our son has returned.” The King announced once they reached the trio of step that led up to the thrones. Brendon almost wanted to laugh at the fact that it was being announced that he had returned while he was obviously standing there, but he knew that wouldn’t be avoid idea. It would only cause a negative reaction from all of those around him. Not something he wanted right now.

“Mother.” He finally greeted. He could almost  _ taste  _ the lie in his mouth that came with saying the word. It made him sick to his stomach.

The Queen let out a squeal and rushed off her throne. She threw herself at him without a care in the world. She held him much tighter than needed. He knew there were going to be bruisers on his chest from her hold. Brendon didn’t move an inch.

An entire minute passed before she finally let go of him. Unnecessarily he exhaled. Both the king and queen looked at him weirdly for it but to Brendon’s relief they didn’t say a word about it.

“I’m so happy to see you, baby.” The woman cried, a bright and entirely false smile on her face. She was now gripping his wrist as tight as she had his chest.

Brendon realised that was shorter than him now. She was looking up into his eyes. He didn’t feel any taller, in fact he felt insignificant in the grand scheme of all of this. It felt like it was all those years ago when she had looked down on him with those mesmerising eyes.

It was if he had never left the kingdom. It was like he had reverted back to his younger self, back when he had never said a bad word about anyone and when he had never fought their decisions.

He hated himself for it.

“He will not leave again, wife. We shall make sure of that.” The King told the woman as if Brendon was there at all. The last sentence made Brendon afraid. What exactly would they be doing to keep him there.

The King’s hand was once again placed on Brendon’s shoulder. His other hand gestured grandously to the thrones in front of him.

“If you had stayed, you would be sitting there right now. But you decided to leave, and, as such , you will be working hard to earn the right to sit there now.” The words were whispered by his father but, with the silence in the throne room and the echo of sound created, it felt like he was being yelled out. Brendon could  _ feel _ the reprimand in the words.

“Aw, darling. He looks so upset. How long will he have to wait?” The Queen asked. Despite her upset words there was a smile on her face. It didn’t surprise Brendon had all.

His father seemed to quickly catch on to the underlying message that she was sending.

“Two weeks.” The King said. “You will have two weeks to be prepared to rule our kingdom —  _ your  _ kingdom.”

Brendon’s heart dropped. They made it seem like he was going to have so much time but…

Of course. This made sense. Two weeks here… on Earth that was barely two days. They were just throwing him straight into the limelight of the Kingdom without a single care in the world. Brendon knew full well why, and he hated them even more then they had in the past.

He opened his mouth to protest but quickly remembered who he was talking to and where. He snapped his mouth shut and dipped his head back down.

“Yes, sit.” He agreed. The Queen, out of Brendon’s view, looked to the king in surprise. As the king had been when Brendon had agreed to come back, she was impressed that Brendon was learning to respect his betters.

Unknown to them, they didn’t realise he was only agreeing because he believed there was no point in returning to Earth. They weren’t aware of the fact that if his friends hadn’t left the band a week before he never would have agreed to leave. His parents didn’t realise how much he still hated them.

It was probably for the best.

“You will start your studies effective immediately.” Brendon was told. He didn’t have a chance to reply to that even if he wanted to. He only caught a flash of his mother eyes before his father grabbed hold of him and they changed their location for the second time in the past few minutes.

The room they appeared in was one unmistakingly familiar.

The kid drawings on the wall, the race car bed, the piles upon piles of proper etiquette written on paper. It was his bedroom, exactly how it had been when he had run away.

He went to look at his father, the question at the tip of his tongue, but the man vanished before he went to do so.

Brendon faced the piles of paper. There were more than there had been when he had left, that much was obvious. If he has to guess all the paper was what he would have had to learn over the years he was gone.

The sound of the door locking for his room was easily heard in the silence. He tired to stretch his muscles, the ones that allowed for him, much like his father, to move through the world without so much as taking a step. Nothing happened.

It was obvious.

He was stuck here.   
  



	4. sit back, relax. sit back, relapse.

The papers that littered the bench taunted him. They towered high, taller than him, and he knew that each and every one of them would be filled with the exact same things he had been taught at a much younger age, with the added exception of the things he was meant to be taught before he had left the kingdom for Earth.

He didn’t want to move towards them. Brendon knew that if he did then he would no longer be able to stop– not because he would _enjoy_ reading them, but more because he would be _physically_ stuck there.

But he had no choice.

Brendon took a step forwards. Then another, and another, until he eventually reached the chair sitting by the table that held all of the paper.

Brendon could feel the influence on his mind as he stood by the chair. He reached forwards and picked up the piece of paper that sat directly at the top of the pile, and, without really thinking of what he was doing, sat down in the chair.

It was time to start relearning everything he had forced himself to forget all those years ago. He didn’t want to, but considering he had nothing left…

He might as well leave as well, and where else than a place that they would never find him.

 

Meanwhile, on Earth, Spencer Smith was going out of his mind with worry. He had given Brendon a week to grieve Ryan and Jon leaving the band, but he had finally had enough. He had decided upon coming to Brendon’s apartment in hopes of making the boy feel better, but when he got no reply the worry quickly set in. He had sent a text before he had arrived as well as when he had arrived, but he had received no reply. On both instances.

He had considered calling up Ryan or Jon, just to see if Brendon had talked to either of them in the past week, but he knew that was mostly just wishful thinking and Brendon wouldn’t enjoy Spencer calling them just for that. He didn’t think anymore on it, but kept it in the back of his mind– just in case.

For now though, he stood outside of Brendon’s apartment, phone in hand. His finger was ever so slightly above the call button. He pressed down and waited.

The sound of Brendon’s ringtone was easily heard from outside his door. Spencer narrowed his eyes. His phone went to voicemail but he paid no attention to it. There was not even a hint of sound coming from inside the apartment.

There was panic building in Spencer’s mind, He pressed call again and the sound of Brendon;s ringtone hadn’t moved an inch. He released a shuddering breath and put a hand on the handle of the door.

He turned it and the door opened with no resistance.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside. Instantly he was on the lookout for one Brendon Boyd Urie.

As expected there was no sign of him. The only hint of anyone being there was Brendon’s phone sitting on the dining room table beside a half eaten bowl of cereal.

The chair behind the cereal was pulled out and, when Spencer looked around the table, he saw that the one opposite that seat was pulled out too.

Spencer pursed his lips. When did Brendon have a guest over? By the look of it, it hadn’t been too long ago. The worry he was nursing grew even more.

If Brendon had only left a short while ago, Spencer would have seen him, he was sure. He had been outside of the house for a little while before he had finalised his decision to talk to Brendon.

So where had Brendon disappeared to?

 

Brendon wasn't expected to hear a knock on his door, but only a few hours after he sat down that was exactly what he heard. He would have turned around but the magical influence of where he was sitting stopped him from even trying.

He could hear the door behind him unlocking. He heard the sound of footsteps heading towards him.

He was only able to move in a way other than grabbing papers when a pair of hands were sat on his shoulders. Instantly he twisted to head around and faced whoever it was behind him.

Brendon made the horrible mistake of looking into their eyes. It was his mother.

There was a sharp grin on her face, not at all like the soft, however fake, smile that she had on her face earlier. A shiver ran straight down his spine.

“Oh, I have  _ missed _ you.” She whispered into his ears. The way she said the words was not kind in any way.

He, unfortunately, knew what she meant by her words. She hadn’t missed  _ him _ , she had missed being able to  _ control  _ him.

“I have missed you as well.” He replied. The words were not his own He was unable to say a word of his own thoughts. Looking into her eyes, Brendon knew why. Those dangerous eyes glinted.

“Tell me, Brendon. What had you been up to all these years? Your father may accept what you tell him, but I am not so easily swayed.”

Brendon could feel the words being forced out of him. They rose, and rose, and he was trying as hard as he could to stop them from being spoken, but it did nothing as the words came flooding out.

The words he spoke made him terrified, but not for himself.

“I was with my parents and my band.” He told her, and her eyes quickly became akin to a dark and stormy night. Brendon would have backed away had he not been in a chair or still stuck looking into her eyes. However lucky it was for him remained to be seen, but the anger made it so the power of her eyes dulled and in that moment he looked away.

The fact he was now looking away didn’t erase the admission from his mind, but at least she wouldn’t be able to force the words from him anymore.

“Your  _ parents _ ?” She practically hissed. The woman was furious. The fact she wasn’t focusing on the fact he had said band as well only provided Brendon with the smallest amount of relief.

Brendon didn’t say a word.

“Let me tell you something, Brendon,  _ I  _ am your mother, and your father is a powerful king you should be grateful to have, you are not  _ allowed  _ to have other parents. They are not worthy of having a child with a lineage such as yours.” Her eyes, impossibly, darkened further. He wasn’t looking into them, but he knew how she worked even after all these years.

Her tone was shadowed in layers of fury as she spoke her next words.

“Who are they?” She demanded.

Brendon looked around her for an escape.

“ _ Where _ are they?” She continued. She was leaning closer to his face with every word. He lowered his head even more to make certain she couldn’t look back into his eyes.

“You won’t tell me? Fine. I guess I will have to get your father involved now. Our new king can not have parents that aren’t us, what would the people  _ think _ ?” She turned back around and Brendon took that as a chance to look up.

“Continue with your studies, I will return later.” With those parting words she walked out the door once more.

The magic had yet to take effect once more, but he turned back around of his own choice. Brendon’s head fell with a resounding thud against the table.

Tears that he had been holding back for a time longer than his father had found him finally surfaced. They ran down his cheeks without pause.

_ Oh, God.  _ He thought to himself, finally grieving for the life he had not to long ago and would never be able to return to again.

 


	5. time for us to take a chance

Spencer was contemplating calling the police, but there had been multiple instances in the past that he had done so and Brendon had just disappeared to get high, or something similar. He didn’t want to come the boy who cried wolf. But there was still the problem of Brendon being missing and not telling anyone where he went.

He couldn’t even be certain that Brendon hadn’t been gone the entire week.

Spencer had pulled the contacts on his phone back up before he could berate himself for the choice he was about to make. He had told himself he wouldn’t do it, but he needed to be absolutely certain before he decided upon calling the police.

The ringing of his phone seemed to make the lead up even more dramatic than it needed to be. It rung and continued to do so for so long that he was beginning to think he wouldn’t get a response. Then he heard a soft “hello?” in reply.

“Hey, Ryan.”

 

“It’s time.”

Brendon was finally released from the magic tying him to the chair. He remained seated for a few more moments, not turning around to face his father who he knew was standing directly behind him.

When he heard the King clearing his throat he finally pushed the chair back and pulled himself onto his feet. He kept his head down as he turned to face his father's direction.

“Raise your head.” He was told. Slowly, hesitantly, he followed the instruction. He looked up. Behind his father stood two young women, nervously glancing at his face. A light buzz was heard coming from their hummingbird-esk wings. Their feet hovered ever so slightly above the floor.

In their hands they both held part of what he knew he was going to have to wear. A robe, sparkling silver and lined with blue, was held in the hands of one. The other held the formal clothes he knew he would be wearing underneath the robe.

“Come.” His father directed, and the man turned to the door and walked out. He was obviously expected Brendon to follow after him and that was what the singer did.

It was time.

 

Ryan didn’t know what he had expected when he saw that Spencer was calling him, but he shouldn’t have been surprised when he was only being called for Brendon’s sake. Spencer’s first words to him after a week of radio silence was simple.

“Have you heard from Brendon?”

He hadn’t realised how high his hopes had been until they were crushed by Spencer’s concerned question. The moment the words left Spencer the smile he didn’t even notice he was gaining quickly died.

Ryan replied after a few seconds of silence, his voice flat, “No, I haven’t. What’s he done now?”

It sounded as if he was just exasperated by the fact that Brendon was doing something stupid– as always. But that wasn’t true. While he had left the band on not-so-good terms, particularly with Brendon, he still worried for the guy. Learning that Spencer, who he had  _ thought  _ would have been keeping an eye on Brendon considering the guys self destructive tendencies, didn’t know where Brendon was made for one of the things that worried Ryan. A lot.

Spencer sighed on the other end of the phone. It sounded as if he wasn’t concerned, but Ryan had know Spencer so long that he could hear the worry in his next words easily.

“That’s the thing… he hasn’t been doing  _ anything  _ since you left.”  _ You. _ No mention of Jon. Ryan knew Spencer wasn’t saying it to make him feel bad, well, not fully, but it still stung.

Spencer continued, “I came to get him today but—” he paused, seeming to collect his thoughts, “He isn’t here, his phone is.”

 

The steps leading up to the throne seemed to taunt him. Brendon looked away from them. He didn’t want to even  _ think  _ of sitting on them, at least not yet. He continued down the hall behind the king and the two winged-ones, away from the thrones.

Brendon first had to get dressed. The moment that was done, however, he knew he would be presented to the kingdom and more than likely crowned at the same time. With that he would end up being stuck here for the next millennium, ruling a desolate, hateful kingdom.

As soon as they entered the change room, he made sure to put the clothes on as slowly as he could, even with the help of the winged-ones. He had no reason to rush this.

 

Ryan agreed to help Spencer find Brendon, after all, two heads were better than one. While he didn’t  _ want  _ to get involved in their problems so close to leaving the band, he wasn’t just going to pretend that Brendon might not be in trouble.

The moment he had finished speaking to Spencer over the phone he began to make his own calls. Jon was the first.

The bassist, like Ryan, hadn’t heard a word from Brendon since their departure from the band. Hearing Ryan explain what Spencer had told him, he agreed to help all he could, however uncomfortable he sounded in agreeing to do so.

Ryan continued to make calls in all his spare time that day, and the next.

For two days they heard nothing. Then Ryan pressed call on the phone number of one Pete Wentz.

 

Brendon slipped the robe on. It felt as if he was wearing a whole other skin. He felt like a fake. Honestly, he  _ was  _ a fake. He had been since he had left the kingdom and joined a band that broke apart just like everything else he was involved with.

Underneath the ever so slightly too long sleeves Brendon clenched his fists. He was forced to stop doing so when one of the winged-folk grabbed hold of the edge of the sleeve and, with a spark of magic, made it fit him perfectly.

His father, who had not left the room once, even when Brendon was changing, stood up from his seat by the doorway.

“That will be all.” The King said, dismissing the winged-folk with the flick of his hand.

“Yes, sire.” The two chorused, flittering out through the door. If they were going quicker than the winged-folk usually did, well, Brendon didn’t say a thing.

His father turned, and, seeing Brendon hunched over his self, looking uncomfortable in the clothes he was wearing, he pursed his lips.

“Stand tall, Brendon. You will soon be king.”

 

Pete had not heard from Ryan Ross in what seemed to be forever. Seeing the name lighting p his phone was surprising but it wasn’t unpleasant in any way. At least, it wasn;t until he learned the reason for the phone call.

“No one’s seen Brendon in over a week.” He was told. It wasn;t until he heard the next words that a thought snapped into his mind, one that should have been impossible but just might not have been.

“His phone’s still at his house. So’s his car. Spencer said it was like he had just  _ vanished _ .”

If Pete knew one thing, it was that humans did not just  _ vanish _ . Not unless they were never human at all.

While this could have been just Pete’s overactive imagination, like it usually was, he needed to be sure. If what he was thinking  _ was  _ true, Brendon could be in serious trouble.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He ended the call before Ryan could say another word. He readied himself.

It was time to go help Brendon.

He pulled off his jacket and let his wings be free for the first time in too many years.

 

Brendon stepped out of the cover the curtains were giving him and into the view of the people of the Clouds. It seemed as if every inhabitant of the kingdom was there. Upon seeing him they burst into conversation with the people closest to them.

“-is that?”

“No  _ way _ . Him?”

“When did he get back?”   
“I can’t believe it-”

Brendon tried to block out what they were speaking about. It, obviously, did not work out very well.

His father walked out behind him and the whispers only grew louder, instead of quieter as it usually would have. Brendon knew it was because the shine on the kings crown was quickly dying down. The crown was hastily becoming a bronze colour, instead of the gold it should have been.

It made it obvious to the people what was about to occur.

“Oh my god.” Was one of the things that echoed across the crowd as realisation stuck multiple people. Brendon choked back a laugh that quickly vanished when he reached the steps leading up to the throne.

He was holding his non-existent breath as he took the first step up.

 

Pete made it to Brendon’s apartment quickly than humanly impossible, considering he had been all the way across the country only a few hours before. Luckily for him the one person he was meeting with would not have any knowledge of that fact.

Spencer opened the door when Pete knocked on it. He looked hopeful for a moment but that expression quickly faded when he realised it wasn’t who he was hoping for. The smile on Spencer’s face remained.

“Pete!” The drummer exclaimed, “What are you- why are you here?”

Pete supposed Ryan hadn’t told him about calling him, then.

That was fine.

“I’m here to help you find Brendon.” Pete told him, a smile at the edge of his lips.

Spencer’s own lips shaped into an ‘o’. As a response to Pete’s words he stepped back to allow the bassist entry into the apartment. Pete stepped inside with a quick “thanks”.

Spencer told him everything he had done when he had arrived two days previous as he lead Pete into the kitchen. Brendon’s phone was still sat on the dining room table, but the bowl of cereal had been put away. Spencer was talking to him about how he hadn’t moved the phone because Brendon had never given him the password for it, so he wouldn’t get much from moving it anyway.

Pete was frozen in the doorway. He was staring at the table with a terrified look in his eyes. He paid no attention to the phone. His eyes slowly came to rest of the chair opposite the one that Brendon had sat in.

Ignoring Spencer’s questioning gaze, Pete stepped towards the table– in particular, towards the chair that had a feeling surrounding it that was way to familiar for him to not need to get closer.

The feeling only grew bigger with each of the steps closer. Pete stopped only centimetres away from the chair, and he could no longer convince himself that it wasn’t exactly what he was thinking.

He turned to Spencer with his jaw clenched and worry burning in his chest.

“I… may have an idea where Brendon might be.” Pete told the other man. Instantly Spencer’s eyes lit up and he moved closer to the bassist.

He was taller than Pete, but the worry for his friend and hope in his voice made Spencer seem so much smaller.

“You do?” Spencer asked, an upsetting amount of desperation on his face.

Pete knew he couldn’t tell Spencer the truth, but it was more because he physically could than because he  _ didn’t  _ actually want the drummer to know. He made up a lie on the spot.

“I only now remembered that Brendon told me was going to visit his family after the tour.” Pete said. Knowing exactly how Spencer was going to respond to that, he quickly continued.

“He… wanted to go over something with me there. How about I take his phone to him and get him to call you if he’s okay with you coming to see him?” Spencer looked like he was going to disagree but he seemed to realise something and nodded.

“Sure, Pete.” He agreed, looking strangely calm. “Tell him that I’m here for him whenever he’s ready. And that I’m sorry I involved Ryan in this.”   
He then walked back out of the dining room.

Pete felt bad for lying to the drummer, but he didn’t - couldn’t - involve anyone else. And if he knew Brendon well enough, which right now he wasn’t sure he did, Brendon wouldn’t want anyone else involved either.

Pete collected the phone from the dining room table and shoved it into his pocket. Then he walked out of the room, and, despite not having been there long, left Brendon’s apartment. The only goodbye he received from Spencer was the short wave of his hand as Pete walked out the door.

As soon as Pete was out of the sight of any prying eyes, he let his wings - wide, bright, blue bird wings - spread and headed for the place he had left behind so many years ago. 

 

Pete flew faster than he ever had before.

 

Brendon kneeled down in front of his father.

 

A queen exited a quaint little home that once belonged to two devout Mormons.

 

Spencer sat on Brendon’s bed, hands clasped together and eyes closed. When they opened, they glowed blue.

 

Each of these were connected.


End file.
